


We'd All be Brave

by imperfectkreis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Biting, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 02:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9102643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imperfectkreis/pseuds/imperfectkreis
Summary: (Chapter 13 spoilers)“I don't care,” Noctis repeats to himself. He knows Prompto doesn't need to hear it. Not again. “I don't care,” he repeats, because maybe he does care, a little.





	

“I don't care,” Noctis repeats to himself. He knows Prompto doesn't need to hear it. Not again. “I don't care,” he repeats, because maybe he does care, a little.

They're crammed into the same bunk, locked inside one of the hauntingly sterile dormitories deep within Zegnautus Keep. The steel bunk frames are spotless, no rust, no fingerprints, no signs of life. The sheets smell of stale detergent. Were there ever people here? It's hard to believe. The corridors are full of daemons, the air musty and cold.

At first, Noctis didn't want to stop moving. He wanted to keep pushing forward, racing towards the end, now that he has Prompto back. Time runs together here. It makes him strange, and determined. His sense of direction is shot and he keeps picking at the skin around his nails, biting at his lips until they bleed.

But Ignis insisted that they rest while they still had the opportunity. Gladio asked how long it had been since Noctis last slept? He didn't know. He wasn't sure. Longer than should have been physically possible, as he wound his way through the maze of corridors.

Still, Noctis wanted to push on. He didn't feel the least bit tired. Just nervous all over, like a spring coiled too tight. They need to...they need to succeed here. Find Ardyn and demand answers for what he's done. 

But Ignis said, in a low voice, what Noctis failed to realize.

“Prompto needs to rest.”

And that was a magic spell, wasn't it? “Prompto needs.” And Noctis stopped, agreeing that they could spend a few hours, locked in with the beds and a tiny electric hot plate. There had been noodles shoved in one of the lockers too. After dinner, they'd climbed into bed. Noctis hadn't even considered sleeping alone.

“It's okay, Noct.”

They have to be quiet now. The others are asleep in their own bunks. At least, Noctis thinks they are, from the heavy, even sounds of their breathing.

Prompto needs the rest. Red and purple bruises stain the delicate skin around his pale eyes, visible even in the darkness. There are welts along his arms, his throat, places Noctis cannot see. He needs to rest before they move again, but Noctis can't keep quiet.

They curl up under the sheets, still fully dressed, save for their jackets, tossed somewhere on the floor. The dorm is safe, but not safe enough to strip down fully. Still, Noctis still wants to stay as close as he can, feeling the gentle thud of Prompto’s heart, still beating in his chest. So they press their bodies close, Noctis whispering in the darkness, keeping Prompto awake. He can't stop.

“Take it off,” Noctis tugs at the leather band around Prompto’s wrist. The one he's never without. How had Noctis never noticed? The bracelets and strips of fabric and stretchy cording Prompto would always wear when they were in school, wrapped around his arm in delicate tangles, like a nesting bird. Then sometimes, he would switch to just and unadorned band, plain and simple, after the mess got to be too much and Prompto cut himself out of the confines of his collection. Noctis never thought much of it.

“Noct…”

"I want to see.”

What little light is in the room, reflects off Prompto’s teeth when he smiles, “I thought you didn't care.”

Noctis huffs, “it's not what you think.”

“Oh?” Prompto’s voice is soft, a little hesitant, “what do you think I think?”

“I think, you think, that I think, you're not you. But I don't. I do think you're you,” Noctis realizes by the end of his convoluted declaration that he doesn't make any sense.

Prompto lays his palm flat against the center of Noctis’ chest, spreading his fingers wide, “I don't think that. You told me….I'm a Crown City Citizen. Yeah? And you've never lied to me before. So why start now?”

Noctis inhales deeply, feeling the steady pressure of Prompto’s hand against his sternum. 

“You know what I think?” the confidence drains back out of Prompto’s voice.

“What?” Noctis asks.

“That you're just nosey.”

“Maybe,” Noctis smiles a little, kissing into Prompto’s hair, just at the edge of his forehead. “There’s more, though.” He takes his hand to Prompto’s wrist, dragging his fingers over the edge of the leather, trying to wiggle a finger between the cuff and Prompto’s skin, but the band is latched too tightly.

“You take it off then,” Prompto says, “if you want to see. It's okay. But it's not...interesting. Just suspicious. But now you know. So it doesn't matter.”

It takes both hands for Noctis to work the silver buckle open. He pulls the cuff away, shoving it into the sheets, out of the way. They can find it later. Prompto doesn't protest as Noctis turns his hand over, looking at the barcode from all angles. But Noctis doesn't miss how Prompto closes his eyes, how his breath grows short.

And looking at it, really seeing, sends ice through Noctis’ veins. He doesn't want it there. He doesn't want to change Prompto, make him other than what he is. Nothing is wrong with Prompto. But that doesn't mean Noctis has to like the dark lines etched into warm, freckled skin. Loving Prompto as he is doesn't mean Noctis has to like that he's marked by something, someone else.

Ardyn.

Noctis knows, logically, sort of, that Ardyn isn't like, directly the person that stamped Prompto. Though he’s involved. He's involved and he's responsible. For kidnapping Prompto, for Luna, for everything. And the coldness inside Noctis turns to ash, singeing along his bones.

“Noct, breathe,” Prompto says, squeezing his arm around Noctis’ waist. “It's okay. We’re okay.”

Noctis grabs at Prompto’s arm again, pulling it back into place so he can look. He puts his mouth against the mark, licking along the dark lines. They're slightly raised, jutting out minutely, not even half a millimeter, from Prompto’s skin. He feels every black stroke against the softness of his tongue.

“Noct."

Scraping his teeth against the code, Noctis knows it won't come off. It's there. It's always been there. And Prompto. Prompto knew. And was too afraid to breathe a word. Even to him. His best friend. Of course. It was...good that he was afraid. Because despite what Noctis says, what he means, that Prompto is still Prompto. Still his friend. Still his. Still.

“Noct,” Prompto whines, his breathing labored.

Noctis pulls his mouth away, staring at the now-reddened skin he abused, teeth marks cutting into the code. “I'm sorry.” He doesn't know what came over him. 

“It's okay, bro, just,” Prompto shifts his body, his arousal obvious against Noctis’ leg. “Kind of rough,” he laughs softly. 

This time, Noctis kisses the barcode gently, keeping his mouth firmly closed. It's just a press of lips to flesh, innocent, unhurried. “Better?” he asks.

Prompto huffs, “Not really.”

After all this time, they shouldn't really worry about the others. It's been months since they've had any semblance of privacy, the four of them practically stacked on top of each other. It's not that Ignis and Gladio approve, exactly, but they don't have an opportunity to disapprove either.

“Hey, Noct?” Prompto asks.

“Yeah?”

There's a beat of silence, before Prompto speaks again, “We don't have to….aw screw it, let's just do it quick. Yeah?”

Prompto is deflecting. Pretending nothing’s wrong. But Noctis can't fault him. He's doing it too, slipping his hand under Prompto’s waistband, sliding his hand across his stomach. If they can just touch, they don't need to talk. Noctis resolves to show Prompto what he still struggles to say aloud.

Just because this is familiar territory, doesn't mean it's not exciting. Noctis’ breath quickens, as Prompto slides his hand against his thigh.

“What about me?” Noctis tries to joke, his voice coming out sandpaper-dry.

“Mm,” Prompto’s eyes are wide open, gold lashes fanned against his browbone, “you get lazy, ah, after.” He bucks his hips into Noctis’ groin. 

Shoving down Prompto’s jeans, Noctis wraps his palm around Prompto’s cock, gathering up precum from the tip and spreading it down along the shaft. He pulls Prompto’s foreskin over the head, and back down, trying to remember the rhythm he knows will get Prompto to breathe real ragged.

Noctis wraps his other hand around to Prompto’s back. He means just to hold him close, let Prompto muffle his sighs and groans against his chest. But Noctis’ hand drifts lower, brushing against the skin of Prompto’s lower back, where his shirt has ridden up.

Drumming his fingers against Prompto’s tailbone, Noctis knows what he wants to do, but not how Prompto will react. Sure they've done...stuff. They've been touching each other for awhile now. Since before Noctis’ engagement, when he and Prompto both figured out how they made the other flush, red and warm, tucked in next to each other on Noctis’ couch, watching television and not studying. It only seemed normal then, to start with kissing, working up to rubbing against each other. Unsteady hands and searching lips.

Dropping his hand lower, Noctis grabs hold of Prompto’s ass, squeezing down as he works Prompto in his hand. He can feel the puff of air Prompto lets out, the vibration of his wordless voice against Noctis’ shoulder, the shudder of his hips.

Noctis can already tell Prompto’s getting close, from the way his thighs clamp together, the stiffness in his spine. 

“Get on your back,” Noctis urges.

Prompto replies, a bleary, “Wah?” before Noctis pushes him back against the mattress. The springs protest, loud and sharp, slicing through the darkness. Noctis winces, the others definitely heard that.

But below him, Prompto’s eyes are wide and his face and neck bright, the redness making his freckles look darker. Though the room is dim, Noctis can see just fine. 

“I want to try…” Noctis starts.

“I trust you,” Prompto assures.

Noctis scoots down the bed, kneeling between Prompto’s legs. Their positions aren't ideal, and Prompto’s jeans keep getting in the way, but Noctis manages to get in a comfortable enough position, giving Prompto a couple strokes in the process to keep from flagging.

Tipping forward, Noctis takes the head of Prompto’s cock past his lips, licking along the underside in short, quick bursts. He tries to think about keeping his teeth away, about sinking down a little further, wrapping his mouth fully around Prompto’s cock. He tries to think about a lot of things, but the only thought that makes it through his fogged awareness is that this is Prompto’s body against his, his cock in Noctis’ mouth. That they're actually doing this. He managed to take initiative and now they're finally….finally.

“Noct,” Prompto sticks both his hands in Noctis’ hair, fingers curling tightly around the black strands, “Noct…” he hisses again.

Noctis has seen vids of this, so he's got some idea of what he should be doing, hollowing his cheeks and pushing more of Prompto’s cock into his mouth. He manages to take a couple inches, before hitting up against his reflex and pulling back quickly, so he doesn't cough. He looks down at Prompto’s cock, now spit-slick and angry red at the head. It's perfect, like the rest of him.

Before Prompto can protest, Noctis takes him back into his mouth.

It doesn't take more than a couple bobs of his head before Prompto is coming down his throat. His stomach tensing and hands clenching down again. Noctis tries to swallow all at once, but some of it still ends up dribbling down his chin. Sitting back on his heels, he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, looking down at the mess he's managed to make of Prompto a little smugly.

“Get back down here,” Prompto garbles, reaching up with one hand to grab the front of Noctis’ tee and drag him back to the mattress. “You're such an idiot sometimes,” Prompto says, his heartbeat loud enough to crush any line of thought Noctis might start following.

“Why?” Noctis asks.

“You didn't have to do that.”

“Yeah, I kind of did...been thinking about it for a long time, actually.”

Prompto laughs, shallow, but enough that Noctis knows he's okay.

“I should,” Prompto starts shifting around, trying to reverse their positions.

“Just your hand is fine. Or actually, um.”

Prompto still looks pretty out of it, his hand unsteady as he tries to work open Noctis’ fly. Noctis lets him at least pull his cock out, stroking a couple times before Noctis takes over for himself.

“It's okay, next time. Right now, I just...want you close.”

“Yeah, okay,” Prompto wraps his arm around Noctis’ waist, holding them tight together while Noctis takes himself in hand. Resting his head on Noctis’ shoulder, Prompto kisses lazily at his neck, sucking down softly. Prompto keeps his hands still, drifting towards sleep. But Noctis doesn't mind. It's his fault they're awake at all.

“I knew you'd save me,” Prompto mumbles. “Today, tomorrow, next year, next lifetime,” his words start to slur. “You've been saving me for a long time, Noct."

“Yeah,” Noctis replies. He's so close, having Prompto near, knowing that he's safe, that nothing else is going to pull them apart, that's enough. “You've been saving me too.”

Prompto smiles, “I'm glad.”

Noctis comes over his fist, into Prompto’s shirt. That's probably okay. He has an extra in his pack, he thinks. Or maybe they can find something to fit Prompto in one of the lockers. They can check in the morning.

For now, he watches as Prompto shifts around, pulling off his soiled shirt and dropping it off the side of the bed. His chest is mottled with bruises, lacerations cutting across his body, curling around to his back. By morning, the potion should take care of them. 

Noctis doesn't say anything more. He needs to let Prompto sleep.

“I love you,” Noctis presses the words into Prompto’s forehead. He gets only silence in return. But that's okay. They still have time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> [tumblr](Imperfectkreis.tumblr.com)


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